


Hestia-Punzel

by CheezLord12



Series: Harry Potter Fairy Tales [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Firewood, Hair, NB!Dumbledore - Freeform, rapunzel - Freeform, tower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28623060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheezLord12/pseuds/CheezLord12
Summary: Emmeline is wandering the woods, collecting firewood, when she hears a curious voice singing in the distance. What will she find in the tower deep in the woods?
Relationships: Hestia Jones/Emmeline Vance
Series: Harry Potter Fairy Tales [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097393





	1. Chapter 1

Emmeline gave Kingsley a small smile as they approached the cottage. He smiled back, pursing his lips to keep from laughing. He jerked his head to Dumbledore, who was walking in front of them. They were still limping, even after an hour had passed.

Emmeline stepped forward. "Dumbledore, are you—is your leg feeling any better?"

Kingsley finally broke. His smile dissolved into a wide grin as his deep chuckles filled the air around them. Dumbledore turned. They were trying to stay calm, but Emmeline could see the slight crease in their forehead and how stiffly they gripped their knife. "I'm quite alright, Em." they said. "It's not twisted."

"Careful of that root there, Dumbledore. You might…  _ trip." _ Kingsley chimed in, giving a snort on the last word.

Emmeline couldn't keep the small snicker from escaping her mouth. Dumbledore's face finally fell into a scowl as they stopped.

"Please, don't mention it again, Kingsley." They requested. "Everyone makes mistakes."

"Not everyone slips on banana peels." Kingsley pointed out, chuckling.

Dumbledore scowled and turned away. "Ah, you're useless."

Kingsley finally stopped laughing as the three of them finally entered the cottage, Dumbledore going straight to the table and sitting down. "I'll make you some tea." Kingsley offered. Dumbledore gave a short note. They then leaned forward and started to pull off their shoe, wincing as their swollen ankle came into view.

Emmeline sucked some air in between her teeth. "Are we supposed to... bandage it? Let it breathe?" Kingsley shrugged, as did Dumbledore.

"Hopefully it will disappear overnight." Kingsley offered. Dumbledore nodded. 

"Indeed. I should rest. If it gets worse..." They pursed their lips. "We shall see."

Later, Emmeline had to ride much farther than normal to gather firewood. Most of the branches she came across were wet from that day's storm. Finally, she came across a large pile. The branches outside were soaked, but the ones in the middle were well protected.

"Now listen well as a tale, I tell of night I shook with fear."

Emmeline looked up as she heard a voice drift down to her from the sky.

"We were sailing home on the, open sea heading home from a long long year."

Emmeline followed the voice, walking through the dense woods. The voice repeated the song once, twice, until—

"Hestia! Quit your infernal screeching and let down your hair!" The voice came from somewhere to Hestia's left. It was nasally, and the person speaking was obviously very annoyed.

"Just a minute!" The singing voice called back. Emmeline moved closer to it.

"Ugh, father, don't pull so hard!"

"Hold on properly, girl!"

"I am holding on!"

Emmeline followed the voice until she found where they were coming from. She couldn't help but let out a small gasp. Luckily, it was drowned out by the arguing.

Before her stood a spindly tower. It reached up into the clouds, ending in a triangular point. From her vantage point, Emmeline could see no windows. She crept around the circular base until she was on the other side, her footsteps well disguised by the bickering pair.

She looked up, blinking. There was a long, black rope running down the side of the tower. Almost as soon as Emmeline saw it, it started to slide up the side once more. She followed it with her eyes, seeing a pair of hands slowly taking it in.

The voices faded away as the last of the rope disappeared into the single small window.

However, before Emmeline could so much as blink, there came a loud shout. She scrunched her face up, trying to decipher it.

"What?" Emmeline grimaced at the high-pitched shriek.  _ "Forgot?" _ The rope was flung out of the window once more, lashing out like a snake as it landed, a foot above the ground. Emmeline hastily ducked behind a tree. A figure started to climb down the rope, muttering to themselves.

Finally, the figure landed on the ground, brushing off their knees as they stood and started back into the woods.

From above, the singing voice stuck out their head, shouting down to the figure. "Remember: Paint! P-A-I-N-T!"

The figure did not respond, but Emmeline heard his nasally voice making some rude comments as he navigated the root-covered ground. Within seconds, he'd disappeared into the dense woods. 

Emmeline darted from her hiding place, craning her neck to peer up the side of the stone tower. Before the rope could slither its way back up, Emmeline jumped a little and grabbed it in her hand.

"Again?" the singing voice asked. "Really? I just—" it cut off with an exasperated sigh and the rope slackened in Emmeline's hand. Wondering if this was some strange dream, Emmeline climbed it. As she did, she felt the thin strands under her hands, rubbing them between her fingers.

Was this...?

Emmeline almost released the rope, but realized it would surely mean her death. Stomach turning, she kept climbing, wondering how one would go about making a rope from hair. Finally, she reached the window, slowly climbing through the small hole.

As if the situation needed to get any more bizarre, the rope was attached to the back of a woman's head. She was facing away from Emmeline as she entered the tower, arms crossed. "You better have a good reason for coming back," she snapped. "An apology would be nice."


	2. Chapter 2

Hestia turned, expecting to see father, scowling at her cheekiness, but instead, she found a woman standing by the window, staring at her with a dazed expression on her face. The woman was large, with thick arms and legs. Her hair was the opposite to Hestia's, fluffy brown and cut short.

She shrieked and jolted backward, forgetting her hair was still hanging out the window. It tugged back at her and Hestia slipped, managing to catch herself at the last second.

The stranger stepped forward, and Hestia brandished her closest weapon—a paintbrush she snatched off the table—making her freeze. "Stop! Who are you?"

"I—who are  _ you?" _

Hestia raised her paintbrush, aiming them at the woman's eyes. "You're the one who broke into my home!" she snapped. "Who are you?"

"My name is Emmeline. Did you say this is your home?" she asked. Hestia marveled at how calm her voice was, a sharp contrast to her own shrill voice.

"Yes. How did you find me? Are you... are you one of those... criminals?" she dropped her voice. Her father had warned her about criminals, evildoers who would cut off her hair and take her paints and leave her in a ditch and  _ oh no _ she'd just let one of them in, she was doomed—

"I... well, yes, I am. But I'm not going to hurt you! I heard you singing and I followed your voice." She put a hand to her boot and slid out a dagger, setting it on the ground and kicking it away from herself. Hestia flinched as it sailed into the wall to her left.

Emmeline reached to her waistband and pulled out another dagger, doing the same to it. She pulled another one from her sleeve, and another from her other boot. 

Hestia blinked. The woman said, "That's all—oh, no hold on." she reached around to her back pocket and pulled a final knife out, adding it to the pile.

"There," she said, raising her hands defensively. "That was it."

Hestia relaxed a little, though she did not lower her paintbrush. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I heard your voice." Emmeline repeated. "And I followed it."

Hestia nodded, jerking her paintbrush to the side, signaling Emmaline to move to the side. She did, and Hestia crept to the window, slowly pulling her rope of hair back up the side of the tower. "You stay right there." she threatened. "My father will be back soon, and he'll—" 

Hestia paused, realizing she didn't actually know what he would do. There was no protocol for this situation. "—he'll take care of you!"

"The man who just left?" Emmeline asked. "He'll take care of me?"

Hestia nodded hastily. "Yes."

She raised an eyebrow and sat down, her back sliding against the stone wall. "I'm sure he will." she muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hestia asked, a spark of anger in her chest. 

"He just doesn't seem to be the fighting type." she said diplomatically. 

Hestia scowled, but she couldn't deny it. If not for his constant climbing of her hair, she had no doubt father would have melted into a puddle of unthleticism years ago.

A few moments of silence passed, Emmeline's eyes tracing the large room, filled with Hestia's paintings. "Did you paint all these?" she asked finally.

Hestia nodded, looking to her current work in progress. Her father sold them in the market to support them, though it was barely enough to buy food for the two of them and more paints and canvasses for her. "My father sells them at the market."

Emmeline nodded. "They're very good." she offered, staring at one in particular. Hestia turned and blushed when she saw which one. It was one of her oldest, and the only one she refused to let her father sell.

Hestia hadn't known what she was painting when she'd sat down at the easel that day, only that she felt something inside of her urging her to  _ create.  _ When she'd finished, she was staring at a delicate fairy, hovering over a flower, drinking in a beam of sunlight that seemed to reach down from the heavens just for her.

Of course, Hestia knew fairies weren't real, but there was still something about this one...

"It's a fairy." Hestia explained unnecessarily. Emmeline nodded.

Another few moments passed. Hestia's arm started to ache, so she switched the paintbrush to her other hand. "How do you leave?" Emmeline asked, scanning the room. 

"Leave?" Hestia asked. "I don't."

Shock flickered across her face. "You don't leave?"

Hestia raised her chin proudly. "I was born here, and here I shall stay. My father brings me anything I need." 

Emmeline blinked. "Never?"

"Never," Hestia confirmed. "The world is too dangerous for someone like me."

"What do you mean, someone like you?"

"Why, a woman. I am too delicate to take care of myself."

Emmeline blinked rapidly, her eyebrows shooting up. "What? No you're not! You've disarmed me, for one!"

Hestia realized that she had, in fact, done that. "Well—" she thought for a moment. "I suppose I have. Are you saying that I'm  _ not _ too delicate to take care of myself?"

Emmeline shook her head, eyebrows furrowing. "Of course not! You can do anything a man could."

Hestia's heart beat wildly, and she slowly lowered her paintbrush. Her thoughts sped wildly as she combed over her life, trying to reconcile this idea with her memories.

She turned to Emmeline and started to shove her hair back through the window. "Go." she ordered, pointing her paintbrush out of the window. "Before he comes back."

Emmeline stood slowly and started to climb out of the window, clearly unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth. "And Emmeline?" 

Emmeline stopped her descent, looking up at Hestia. "Em is fine."

"Very well, Em...thank you." she said hesitantly.

Emmeline nodded, continuing to climb. "Of course. Goodbye..."

"Hestia!" she yelled down, leaning forward a little.

"Goodbye, Hestia!"

~

When she and Kingsley stopped a group of lords walking through the market the next day and robbed them, Emmeline found she had no dagger. Her eyes widened when she realized they were still up in the tower, with Hestia.

"Em, why didn't you use your dagger?" Kingsley asked as they slipped out of the market and back into the woods. "That blonde one almost escaped."

"I...ah, forgot it at home."

Kingsley sighed. "Oh, well, I guess it worked out okay anyway. Nice punch, by the way." He grinned at her.

Emmeline had volunteered to go gather firewood once again, and she set out into the woods, retracing her steps from the day before. Luckily, Hestia was singing again, and Emmeline was able to follow her voice and find the tower.

"Hestia!" she yelled.

A moment later, her head peeked over the ledge, looking down on Emmeline. "Em? What are you doing here?"

"I... forgot my daggers." Emmeline yelled. "Would you mind throwing them down? They're my only ones, you see."

"Oh, just come up. I wouldn't want to hurt you." Hestia lowered her hair and Emmeline shrugged, wrapping her hands in it and pulling herself up and through the window once more.

As soon as she was inside, Hestia put her hands on her shoulders. "Oh, I was hoping you'd come back! I had some questions, about what you said yesterday." Her angular eyes were wide with curiosity. 

"I—" Emmeline tried, but she was interrupted by Hestia. 

"Do you truly think that I could make it on my own in the world?"

"Yes, but I'm only here for—" Emmeline said hurriedly.

"Don't worry, my father won't be back until tomorrow. Oh, and here they are." Hestia shoved them into Emmeline's hands. She watched impatiently as she tucked them back into their various hiding places.

Hestia sat her on a bench, leaning forward as she talked. "You're a criminal, correct?"

"I'm a bandit." Emmeline confirmed.

"Do you have to do much fighting? Do you win? Could you teach me?" 

Emmeline blinked as she was peppered with questions. She did her best to answer, but they just kept coming. Finally, she realized the only way to stop the flow of questions was to ask one of her own. "How did you and your father come to live here?"

"Oh, it's my mother's home, actually." She smiled fondly. "She lived here for years, and then she met my father and they got married and moved to the village. She wanted to give birth here, and we came back, but she... she died giving birth to me." Hestia paused for a moment, but then continued enthusiastically.

"My father wanted to stay here to honor my mothers memory, and he kept me here to protect me. When I was ten, an earthquake caused the door to collapse and ever since, father’s been using my hair to climb up and down. Although..." her lips tucked down into a frown as she stared off into space. "Anyway, that's what happened."

Emmeline blinked, nodding. "Oh, I see." Before Hestia could ask  _ more _ questions, Emmeline stood up hastily and looked out the window, at the setting sun. "I need to go, before it gets dark." she said quickly, hoping that Hestia would allow her to leave.

Hestia's face fell, but she nodded. "Of course. But... you'll return, right?"

Emmeline felt a strange tick in her heart as she looked into Hestia's earnest face, and she couldn't stop herself from nodding. "Alright."

Hestia's face split into a grin. "Oh, really? Thank you! My father is always gone from sunrise to noon. That's when you can come."

She winced a little as Emmeline swung out the window, holding onto her hair. "I'll see you, Em!"


	3. Chapter 3

Emmeline visited every day that week, quenching Hestia's thirst for information about the outside world. They spent the mornings together, discussing everything from the market to what a sunrise looked like, Hestia painting while Emmeline sat and watched her. 

"Where do you live? In the village?" Hestia asked, realizing she didn't actually know much about Emmeline.

"No, I live in the woods, in a cottage with my brother and our... friend."

Hestia twisted in her seat. "You live with your brother? What of your parents?"

Emmeline shook her head. "I am an orphan. So is my brother. We had an adoptive father once, but... we no longer live with him."

Hestia felt a pull of sympathy, and she paused her painting to turn and face Emmeline. "I'm sorry." she said softly, feeling uncomfortable. "I didn't mean to pry."

Emmeline waved her off. "You weren't prying, Hestia. It's all right."

Hestia nodded silently, returning to her painting. "So, you and your brother, you steal from people?"

"Only from those who have too much, and only enough to sustain ourselves." The phrase spilled off her tongue easily.

Hestia bit her lip, making another brushstroke before turning to Emmeline once again. "That's interesting. Does that mean you're... a good criminal?"

Emmeline tilted her head. "Yes, I suppose it does."

This made Hestia feel slightly unbalanced, but she focused on her painting, adding the finishing touches. She lifted herself off the bench, dropping her brush into her water cup. "What do you think?" she asked Emmeline.

It was a view from her tower, the woods sprawling out under her, meeting the pale blue sky. It seemed to stretch into forever.

"What's that blotch there, in the corner?" Emmeline asked, pointing to the offending spot.

Hestia grinned. "It's you!"

Emmeline leaned in closer, squinting a little. "Am I... carrying firewood?"

Hestia nodded. "Every time you come, you're carrying firewood!" she explained.

"Wow." Emmeline muttered. "It's very detailed."

Hestia ducked her head. "Thank you."

Hestia glanced out the window, comparing the painting with the actual view. Her eyes widened when she saw where the sun was. "Em, it's nearly noon! You have to go!" Emmeline looked out the window and sprung up, following Hestia to the window. She was in such a rush that she didn't even say goodbye as she left.

Sure enough, father returned not twenty minutes later, holding a loaf of bread and some cheese. "Hestia!" he yelled. 

As soon as he was in the tower, he spun on her. "You need to work harder! I was barely able to sell your last painting for this!" he thrust the food at her, and she rolled her eyes.

"Calm yourself, father. I finished one this morning." she gestured to the painting, stepping strategically in front of it so the corner was blocked from his view.

"Hmph." he muttered. "Very well. Maybe I can get more for that. Let's eat lunch, then you need to mend my cloak. I ripped it on a branch." He displayed it to her.

Hestia sighed, and followed him up down to the lower level, where the kitchen was. 

"What did you do today, father?" she asked.

"I just told you, child. I spent all morning trying to sell the painting. And you? Spent half the morning singing that Ghost Ship song, I expect."

Hestia scowled. "It's the only song I know. If  _ you _ would bring me some decent books, maybe I could—"

"Pah! What do you need books for?" He waved her off. "You should be working on improving your paintings, so we may eat well for once!"

Hestia sighed and rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, father." Sometimes, she wished she could be like Emmeline.

Free.

~

Emmeline's hands wrapped around the familiar rope of hair. She pushed her feet against the side of the tower, using her momentum to haul herself through the window, accidently overcompensating and stumbling a little as she entered.

Hestia grabbed her arm to help her up, pulling them rather close together. Emmeline almost stopped breathing as they looked at each other for a moment, frozen. Then, Hestia stepped back. She cleared her throat, and the spell was broken. 

"How are you?" Hestia asked awkwardly.

"I'm alright." Emmeline said simply, sitting down on the bench. "What are you working on?"

Hestia ignored her fiddling with the ends of her hair as she pulled the long braid up. "Em, I think I want to leave."

Emmeline blinked. "Leave... the tower?"

Hestia nodded, starting to pace up and down in the small space. "All I do is paint all day, and do chores for father while he gets to go outside, and do things! I want to go outside like you!" She turned to look at Emmeline finally, and Emmeline nearly stumbled back.

Her eyes were shining with adventure, and the hopeful, adventurous smile spreading across her face transformed it totally, making her...

Beautiful. 

Emmeline shook the thought from her head as soon as she had it, trying to focus on anything else. "How would you get down? I could bring you a rope, but even my longest wouldn't even go halfway down the tower."

Hestia shook her head. "I could cut off my hair and tie it here. It would be an inconvenience outside, anyway."

Emmeline nodded. Even tied in a rope, Hestia's hair would be like an anchor dragging her down. 

Hestia's smile returned. "The first thing I'll do when I get out is run!" She skipped forward, her arms out. Her voice, filled with enthusiasm.

Emmeline found a rare laugh drawn out of her. "You'll be excellent at it."

Hestia nodded. "And then I'll climb a tree, and talk to another person, and see a sunset!" her face filled with wonder and she skipped forward to Emmeline, panting a little. "What else?"

Emmeline realized they were close together. 

_ Extremely _ close together.

Emmeline leaned forward and kissed Hestia.

She had to lean down to do it, but Hestia responded immediately, pushing herself to her toes and wrapping her arms around Emmeline's neck and kissing her back enthusiastically.

She didn't know how long it was before she pulled away blinking at Hestia. "Was that... okay?" she asked hesitantly.

"Oh  _ god,  _ yes." Hestia whispered, threading her hands through Emmeline's hair and pulling her close again.

When they parted later that day, it was with the promise that Emmeline would be back the next day and Hestia would leave.

"I have something to tell you," she announced as she strode back into the cottage, placing the firewood in the corner.

Dumbledore and Kingsley glanced at each other, then at her. "What is it?" Dumbledore asked, ticking up an eyebrow.

"There is... someone else living in the woods." Emmeline explained. "A woman, locked in a tower."

"A woman... locked in a tower?" Dumbledore asked, their eyebrows knitting together.

Emmeline took a seat and explained the story, how she'd overheard Hestia singing and seen her father climb the braid, how she'd been visiting Hestia all week.

"She's going to escape tomorrow, and I sort of told her she could...stay with us." Emmeline finished cautiously, looking up at them.

Dumbledore blinked. "Well, that's quite the story, Em."

Emmeline nodded.

"If you trust her, then I see no reason why she cannot stay with us." They said. Emmeline's shoulders relaxed and she stood.

"Thank you, Dumbledore."


	4. Chapter 4

After breakfast, Hestia looked over her dresses, trying to decide which ones to take. She knew she wouldn't be able to carry all of them down the side of the tower, so she picked five of her favorites and lied them out on her bed and started to fold them.

"Hestia, what are you doing?" Fathers gruff voice traveled down to her as he climbed down the stairs.

"Ah—just organizing my dresses, father." She lied, turning to face him.

He pursed his lips together. "That can wait. Come with me, I have a question about your painting."

Hestia nodded and followed him up, her heart dropping when he led her to the one she'd completed last, with Emmeline in the corner. He jabbed his finger at the blotch. "What's this supposed to be?"

"A person collecting firewood. I saw somebody in the woods once, so I decided to add them to my painting." she lied smoothly.

He whirled around. "What? You saw someone from the tower?"

"That's what I just said." she said, rolling her eyes.

He grabbed her arm and squeezed it, tightly enough to be painful. "This isn't the time to joke, Hestia. Tell me, did they see you?"

Hestia felt panic start to build up in her. "No, no she didn't come that close!" she exclaimed, trying to remove his hand.

"She?" he demanded, squeezing somehow tighter. "How do you know it was a woman? How close did she come?"

"No! I mean—they. I didn't—I couldn't tell!" she felt her nose start to drip as she started to cry.

Father's eyes widened and he finally released her, walking to the wall behind her and picking something off the floor. Hestia froze when she saw what it was.

The knife, the small one that Emmeline had nearly forgotten about that first day. Hestia must've missed it in returning the daggers. It had been hidden in the corner, collecting dust. 

Until now.

"What is this?" he demanded, brandishing it at her. "Where did you get it from? Did you—" he paled, and his hand started to shake. "You let someone else up?" he roared. Hestia flinched and wiped away her tears, though they were quickly replaced.

"No!" she exclaimed. "No, I didn't. Father, please. You're scaring me!"

He spun around. "I'm not your father, girl. Stop snivelling at me and  _ tell me who you let in!" _

Hestia's tightly balled fist relaxed, her fingers uncurling.

"What?"

Father bounced his leg impatiently. "Your father was a fool. He tried to steal coal from me to warm his wife, and he paid the price. His precious Hestia." he leered at her. "The best business deal I ever made. You have no idea how much gold you've supplied me with, do you? A painting does not buy a  _ single loaf _ of bread." he scoffed. "You've been helping me get richer for years, and you didn't even know it, did you?"

Hestia stumbled back, pressing herself against the wall. She tried to control her heaving chest, but she could do nothing about the great, gasping sobs she was letting out. "Now," he hissed. "Who. Did. You. Let. IN."

Hestia shook her head, trying clamping her mouth shut, determined not to speak.

"Hestia!"

Father froze, and a terrible silence filled the room. He grinned and walked to the window, peeking out the slightest bit. He cackled and dragged the end of Hestia's braid to the window and flung it down. Hestia scrabbled at it, trying to drag it back up, but there was too much hair, it was too long.

Hestia screamed, trying to warn Emmeline, tell her not to come, but father grabbed her and pushed his knife up to her neck, clamping a hand over her mouth. "Now, now." he growled. "Don't ruin the surprise."

Emmeline finally appeared over the edge of the window, pulling herself into the room before looking up. "I asked–" Before she could say anything else, she froze, her eyes flicking between Hestia and father.

Hestia tried to convey a message with her eyes, trying to tell her to  _ go, _ to get out while she still could. Emmeline did the opposite, stepping forward with her hands held hesitantly in front of her. 

Father snarled, pressing the knife into the tender skin at Hestia's neck. A whimper slipped from her mouth. "So, you're the scum that's been corrupting Hestia?" he asked, stepping forward with Hestia still firmly trapped in his arms. "How did you find this place?" he asked.

Emmeline licked her lips, her eyes still darting between the two of them. "I... was just wandering around and I found it."

He scowled, and stepped forward again, and again, until he was only a foot from Emmeline. Hestia waved her hand by her side, trying to communicate to her that she needed to get out—

Father raised his leg and kicked Emmeline in the stomach.

Hestia screamed, the sound muffled, as Emmeline stumbled back, doubled at the waist and fell out the window. She felt a sharp tug at her braid as she heard Emmeline scream, the sound cut off by a sickening  _ thud. _

Hestia surged forward, forgetting the knife at her throat and stuck her head out through the window. She could see Emmeline there, lying in a heap, tangled in the bushes. Father pulled her back, snarling.

"Now, what to do with you?" he asked, his breath hot on her face.

Hestia felt a sudden surge of anger, and she remembered Emmeline's words. She was just as capable as father, as any man. She jammed her elbow into his stomach.

He doubled over and wheezed, his grip on her loosening enough for her to wrench herself from his grasp. She spun around while he was still wheezing for air, and used the nearest object to hit him over the head.

The nearest object being a frying pan. 

He dropped, his am making a nauseating  _ crunch _ as he landed on the floor. Hestia hovered over him, panting as she processed what had just happened. She cautiously crouched over him, putting a shaking hand under his nose. He was still breathing.

How unfortunate.

Her entire body shaking with adrenaline, Hestia snatched up the knife and sawed off her hair, tying it to the windowsill before swinging herself out of the tower. She paused before starting her climb down, looking at the prone figure of her father.

"Goodbye." she whispered to the unconscious man, and she started climbing down to Emmeline.

~

As Emmeline tumbled out of the window, all she could think about was the fact that Hestia's braid was still hanging out the window.

Even as a scream tore out of her throat, Emmeline reached forward, scrabbling in the air for the braid. Her fingers latched on, tangling in the strands, but they slipped out once again.

She didn't manage to catch onto the braid, but it did slow her down enough that when she finally hit the bushes, nothing broke.

It still hurt, though. A lot. She groaned, lying still for a few moments.

_ Move.  _ her inner voice barked at her.

_ It hurts too much. _ she responded.

She tried to open her eyes, but a sharp pain burst through her eyelids and she squeezed them tightly, hissing. She wallowed in it for another moment, until she heard a shout.

"Em!" It came from the tower, floating down to her. "Hold on, I'm coming!"

Emmeline forced herself to roll over so she was facing the sky, though her eyes still refused to open. Another few moments passed, and Emmeline heard Hestia's feet land on the ground and thump over to her.

"Em, are you alright? Oh, god, your eyes." Her voice was panicked and her breathing short and rapid.

"I'm... ouch." Emmeline muttered, the words like sandpaper to her throat.

"Alright, alright." Hestia muttered to herself. "Alright, where... is anything... do you—can you stand?"

"I don't think anything is broken." Emmeline ground out. "But everything aches and... I can't open my eyes."

"I know, they're all scratched up from the thorns." Hestia said, the words stumbling out of her mouth. "Hold on a moment."

Emmeline felt Hestia's soft hands reach around her and cradle her head, causing a starburst of pain to run up her neck. She stifled a hiss. She heard some shuffling. "I'm going to try to clean them out." Hestia warned. Seconds later, there was a cold sensation as water was trickled down her face, dripping down her neck and into her hair.

"Try it now."

Emmeline slowly opened her eyes, blinking rapidly as water fell into them. However, the stinging sensation did not return and she was able to see clearly, straight into Hestia's worry stricken face. "I... it's good. I can see." she breathed.

Hestia nodded hastily and helped Emmeline sit up slowly. She looked around, at Hestia's chopped off hair and the tower beside them. "You healed me." she murmured. "You healed me."


End file.
